Leaving Li Zhenzhen’s quarters, Xie Yuzhang and Li Weifeng followed Li Gu on the way back, until they stopped at a fork in the covered walkway.

If they wished to leave the palace, the path from here would take them there directly — there was no need to follow Li Gu all the way back to Zichen Hall.

Li Weifeng called out loudly: “Your Majesty, this subject has matters to attend to at home. Please permit me to take my leave.”

Li Gu said: “Seventh Brother, go.”

Xie Yuzhang quickly added: “Your Majesty, this subject’s consort also…”

The Emperor’s gaze pressed down upon her.

“…also has matters to attend to, and must — must take her leave first.” Xie Yuzhang’s voice grew smaller and smaller.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Li Weifeng, utterly without loyalty, his long legs carrying him away in a flash until he vanished entirely.

Fuchun and the attendants who had just been standing nearby had also disappeared without a trace at some point — the eunuchs’ ability to appear and vanish like ghosts was something Xie Yuzhang had always found deeply exasperating.

And so, at this fork in the covered walkway, there was now no one but her and the Emperor.

Beneath the weight of the Emperor’s gaze, Xie Yuzhang fixed her eyes on the ground and asked softly: “Does Your Majesty have further instructions?”

But the Emperor called out: “Xie Yuzhang.”

Being addressed by one’s full name was rarely a good sign. Xie Yuzhang raised her head.

Li Gu walked to stand before her, hands clasped behind his back, looking down at her. The Emperor’s presence bore down on her like a great weight.

“From now on, speak plainly.” He fixed his eyes on her and said, “Do not play games with me.”

Xie Yuzhang sighed: “Is Your Majesty angry?”

Li Gu said: “A person of integrity ought to be open and upright.”

Xie Yuzhang said: “I am not a person of integrity. I am only a woman.”

“On the steppe,” Xie Yuzhang said, “if a man wants something, all he needs is a blade in his hand and he dares to take it by force. But a woman cannot do the same. I can only find my way around things through indirection and maneuvering.”

Li Gu said: “You have already come back. This is Yunjing, not that savage, blood-drinking land.”

Xie Yuzhang raised her eyes: “But the one I must face is an Emperor.”

Li Gu stared into her eyes. Xie Yuzhang’s eyes were long and beguiling, the pupils clear and bright, with a light deep within them.

She said: “The Emperor commands all under heaven, and naturally believes he is entitled to possess everything. How, then, am I to tell an Emperor, ‘I am unwilling’?”

Li Gu asked: “You… do not trust me?”

“Eight years have passed.” Xie Yuzhang gave a bitter smile. “Between Your Majesty and me back then, there was nothing more than the vague, tender feelings of youth. Now that we meet again, the very sky above has changed. Yet Your Majesty holds such exacting expectations of me?”

She lowered her gaze and said: “I have no one to rely upon, nor can I overcome all obstacles by sheer force alone. So I can only resort to maneuvering.”

Li Gu frowned, his eyes fixed on her.

“Because I dared not presume what manner of man the Son of Heaven might be.” Xie Yuzhang’s voice drifted lightly. “But I knew that on the road of the bridal procession all those years ago — my general… would never have forced me.”

“While I was on the steppe, I used to imagine, perhaps one day my general would ride to meet me, bring me away from that wilderness and take me home.”

“But Yunjing fell into chaos. The old Khan died. No one came for me.”

It seemed as though not even a breath of wind stirred. The air itself seemed to have frozen still.

Xie Yuzhang’s voice was so soft, yet each word fell like a drumbeat striking at Li Gu’s heart.

“I could only rely on myself. Both Tuqitang and Wuwei wanted me. Tuqitang was actually the stronger of the two, but I had a premonition — Da Zhao could not last much longer, and sooner or later I would lose the protection that came with the identity of ‘Princess of Zhao.’ So I chose Wuwei.”

“I could not allow myself to become any man’s wife. I had to become the Khan’s consort. Only by bearing that title could I hold my own people together, and as long as my people held together, I would not be humiliated by outsiders.”

“All of this was calculated step by step. There were times when anxiety would wake me in the middle of the night, lying there asking myself — what is the next step? What is the right course of action?”

“I have returned, yes. But the general is now an Emperor. Though the court officials praise my contributions, the way they look at me is not so different from how the people of the steppe looked at me. They all wear the same smile that men wear, all assuming the Emperor will take me into the rear palace, all believing that is where I belong.”

“At first, I too was filled with unease. I too was ready to bow my head and accept my fate. But Your Majesty… Your Majesty made me a princess. Your Majesty upheld what the general said all those years ago.”

“My courage grew. I decided to stake everything on one gamble.”

“I gambled that my general was still there. I gambled that he would still be willing to protect me.”

“The one who gave me that courage was none other than Your Majesty. The one who made that gamble a winning one was none other than my general.” Xie Yuzhang raised her head and smiled. “And yet Your Majesty is angry over this — that is truly far too petty.”

Li Gu’s hand clenched into a tight fist.

“Yuzhang,” he said, “don’t cry… don’t cry.”

He raised his hand, wanting to wipe the tear tracks from her face, but suddenly stopped and looked off into the distance.

Xie Yuzhang understood then that someone was nearby. She wiped her tears with her sleeve and turned — across the courtyard, along another corridor, Noble Consort Cui and Virtuous Consort Deng stood frozen, gazing in their direction.

When they saw her look over, they came back to themselves. With undiminished grace, they saluted the Emperor from afar, and then walked away with their attendants in tow.

Judging by the direction they took, it appeared the two were going together to call on the Noble Imperial Consort.

The dream of a youth and a maiden — of the tribute princess and the escorting general — shattered and scattered upon their appearance, dissolving into the wind without a trace.

In a single turn, the general had become Emperor; the Princess of Zhao had become the Princess of Mu.

The Emperor said: “Yuzhang, I will ask you once more. What else is it that you want?”

Princess Yongning lifted her face and said: “Widowhood draws much gossip and trouble. I want Your Majesty’s protection. I will not allow others to humiliate me — but Yunjing is full of the powerful and the privileged, and I have no father or brothers to lean upon. I can only lean on Your Majesty.”

“Granted.” The Emperor’s expression was very cold. He said, “When anything arises, you need only protect yourself. Everything else is mine to handle.”

Princess Yongning bent her knees in a curtsy. Her manner was graceful and lovely, her etiquette beyond reproach.

Whether in Da Zhao or Da Mu, she was a true princess in every sense.

Within the Emperor’s heart, something stirred — wistful, and yet at peace.

“Yongning,” he said. “On the first and fifteenth of each month, enter the palace to pay your respects to the Noble Imperial Consort.”

Princess Yongning accepted this condition with composure: “Yes.”

The Emperor added: “Eldest Sister has suffered greatly as well. The palace is a lonely place. I hope she will have someone to accompany her. I trust you will appreciate her situation.”

Years ago, during the chaos of Hexi, Li Zhenzhen had been the sole surviving blood of Li Ming left in the world. Li Gu had naturally been unable to allow her to bear another man’s children, and so had taken her in marriage himself.

By now Hexi had long been firmly in Li Gu’s grasp, but the formal tie had been established long before, and all the world knew that Li Zhenzhen was his wedded wife through proper rites. And so Li Zhenzhen had no choice but to go on living beneath that identity for the rest of her life.

An Emperor looking upon his own rear palace — or even an ordinary man looking upon his own inner household — always tends to see everything through a soft, hazy light that blurs and beautifies what lies within.

What Li Zhenzhen wanted was most certainly not companionship.

But one cannot expect to receive benefits without giving something in return. Measured against the promise she had secured, the price she had to pay was negligible. Xie Yuzhang curtsied once more: “Yes.”

Returning from the palace to the Princess’s residence, Lin Fei, Wanxiu, and Yuexiang were all there. The moment Xie Yuzhang saw them, her spirits lifted.

“Being close by does make things easy, doesn’t it — come whenever I call,” she said.

Lin Fei asked: “How did an audience at the palace to express gratitude take until this late to return?”

Xie Yuzhang said: “I also went to pay my respects to the Noble Imperial Consort and was kept for a meal.”

She changed into everyday clothes, and the women sat down to talk.

“Our household head still wants to go out and take his chances,” said Yuexiang.

Xie Yuzhang asked: “And Wang Zhong?”

Wanxiu said: “Our household’s man also wants to try.”

These men who had once been timid and cowardly had been toughened through hardship and tumbling on the steppe, and had been forged into something different.

Xie Yuzhang sighed: “One journey across the steppe, and everyone has changed.”

The four women recalled how their companions had looked on the road of the bridal procession, then compared that to the present, and all fell into reflection.

Xie Yuzhang asked them: “When are you going home to visit?”

Among those who had accompanied the bridal procession, the craftsmen of various trades had mostly brought their whole families along. But among the guards, many had been single men — called up according to wartime conscription, drawn from households that had other sons. Wang Zhong and Li Yong both came from families with brothers, and they had been gone for eight years now. Whether their parents were still living, no one could say.

Wanxiu said: “We said we’d get settled first, then go back to see.”

After Wanxiu and Yuexiang left, Xie Yuzhang told Lin Fei everything that had happened at the palace that day.

“The threat has been completely removed.” She collapsed across the couch with a sigh. “I feel as though a great weight has lifted from both my shoulders.”

Lin Fei was both exasperated and amused.

While they were still talking, someone came from the palace, returning the dagger that Li Gu had given Xie Yuzhang all those years ago, along with a palace entry tablet.

Lin Fei said: “Oh.”

With the tablet, she could move in and out of the imperial city freely, without needing to submit a request and wait for approval.

Xie Yuzhang tucked the dagger at her waist and tossed the tablet idly in her hand. “The only tiresome thing is having to come check in twice a month.”

Lin Fei asked: “What are the characters of Noble Consort Cui and Virtuous Consort Deng?”

Xie Yuzhang thought for a moment and said: “Not well acquainted.”

“Those two are both daughters of distinguished old families, with quite a bearing about them. They never gave me any trouble.” She spoke as she thought back. “Virtuous Consort Deng has a cool temperament. Noble Consort Cui has an excellent reputation, and with the First Imperial Prince beside her, Zhang Fen has always held her in wariness.”

Lin Fei asked: “Doesn’t Virtuous Consort Deng also have the Second Imperial Prince? Did the same happen in the previous life?”

“Yes. But…” Xie Yuzhang sighed. “Ah.”

Lin Fei understood, and sighed too: “How sad.”

“I heard the Emperor pitied her for it and has been especially lenient and indulgent with her ever since.” Xie Yuzhang said. “But I heard her temperament has grown somewhat twisted over time, and she later grew estranged even from her own family. Yet the Emperor is a man of deep feeling — he has always treated the three who were his equal wives well. No one else can compare. Zhang Fen can only use words to needle them, and cannot truly humiliate them.”

Lin Fei said: “So much has already changed. I hope what happens to the Second Imperial Prince can also change.”

Xie Yuzhang said: “Yes. If it can change, that would count as a small merit to my name. I do hope so.”

The two of them were not close with Deng Wan, but they had no conflict of interests with her either. In such a situation, as women themselves, they took no pleasure in seeing another woman suffer misfortune.

Then they spoke of the matter of Nanny Xia.

Lin Fei said: “Nanny got what she always sought.”

Xie Yuzhang, however, did not tell her that Li Gu intended to bestow an official commendation upon her as well. To say it first would spoil the surprise.

Li Gu’s bestowal of an official commendation would formally affirm Lin Fei’s conduct of years past. If anyone dared to speak gossip again using those eight years on the steppe against her, they would be, in effect, slapping the Emperor in the face.

She only said: “Tomorrow I’ll go to Xie Family Village to visit Elder Sister Dahu.”

True to her word, Xie Yuzhang left the city the following day.

She had barely gone a short distance outside the city gates when she heard the sound of hoofbeats behind her. Xie Yuzhang and her guards had spent so long on the steppe that they were keenly attuned to the sound of galloping horses — her hand was already on the blade at her waist.

A group of riders came thundering up behind her. Their horsemanship was superb, no less than that of the warriors of Mobei. The lead rider reined in his horse, his smile radiant: “Why, Princess Yongning! What a coincidence! Where is Your Highness headed?”

It was none other than the man who was all smiles to your face and vanished the moment trouble came — Marquis Bei Rong, Li Weifeng.

Today was not a rest day, so this fellow had clearly played truant from court.

Princess Yongning smiled pleasantly: “I am going to burn incense at Lanyun Temple on Little Conch Mountain.”

“What? What?” Li Weifeng was baffled. “But — isn’t it Xie Family Village?”

Princess Yongning: “Ha.”